Until Forever by Johanna Lindsey

Author:Johanna Lindsey
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

21

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It occurred to Roseleen, albeit a bit too late, that although she was

wearing the clothes of a lady, her hair was an absolute disaster after she

had slept on it wet. She hadn't given it a thought before she'd rushed out

of the tent. And medieval ladies rarely went out in public with such untidy

hair, let alone uncovered hair.

So unfortunately, anyone who happened to see her might assume that

she had just come from bed. And her walking through an army camp

without an escort would lead to the worst conclusion, that she'd probably

had a secret rendezvous last night with one of the soldiers, and if she could

consort with one of them, why not a few more?

She hoped that the men now gathering around her hadn't drawn that

particular conclusion, but from all the grins coming her way, she was

afraid it was a slim hope. And these weren't twentieth century men who

might back off with an apology, once she explained their mistake.

These were coarse, rustic peasants, who had been pulled from their

homes to further their duke's ambitions, men greedy for whatever few

pleasures came their way in their otherwise dismal lives. And these

particular men had to know they would soon be facing death. The

Normans might have won the Battle of Hastings, but not without losses.

She would have felt sorry for them if they weren't planning on making

her one of those few pleasures they got out of life. And their expressions

told her that was exactly what they were planning. In broad daylight no

less, with others all about. This bunch had to be pretty desperate—or just

uncaring of any consequences.

She should have started yelling her head off, come what may, instead of

trying for a calm approach and merely warning them, "I shall scream,

gentlemen, and draw you quite an audience, if you do not immediately

desist and let me be on my way."

One of them laughed at that threat. Another one reached for a lock of

her long hair and began rubbing it between his dirty fingers. The one with

his arm still around her shoulders squeezed her to his side. The stench of

his unwashed body nearly made her gag.

But the words of the one who plastered his hand to her breast turned

her blood cold. "If ye want more'n just us riding ye, wench, then

commence yer screaming. We mind not the sharing of ye."

Raped by the masses? Roseleen thought, horrified. No, thank you, and

he was probably right. She hadn't noticed enough nobles around to hope

for some heroic interference, and odds were that any lords who were

around could be just as crude as their underlings, and would simply take

their turn with the rest of the men.

After all, Vikings didn't have a monopoly on raping and pillaging at the

end of a well-fought battle. These men were preparing for war, and rape

was an anticipated part of medieval warfare, a sort of bonus for the

winners, a further blow to the losers.

It was to Duke William's credit, as well as an indication of his deep

coffers, that for all the months that he had maintained this army, waiting

to cross the Channel, he had kept them from pillaging the surrounding

neighborhood.

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